


dreams immaculate

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Foot Fetish, Kink Meme, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Not Underage, Pre-Canon, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Girl on the Throne guides Byleth through the proper way to worship her.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Sothis
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Anon Works





	dreams immaculate

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=501212#cmt501212

She was having that dream again.

The dream about the Girl on the Throne. She had watched the war from her stony heavens and now. She was vastly bored.

And though Byleth had had this dream before, many times before even, this was the first time in which it had grown erotic. Became a vehicle for lust rather than strange, airy exchanges about the future and about the past.

It was cold, Byleth thought. Odd, since it was a dream. She would have thought sensations to be meaningless but the stone this Girl’s throne was made of was cold. 

Her eyes were cruel and intrigued. That much was certain.

“A human girl,” she said, voice all high and mighty but so, so, so bored, “all for me. How lucky. Some men get dozens for the thrill but just my luck. I get one.”

Should she apologise? For being alone and not being an orgy? Byleth wondered with big, doe eyes unto this Girl. All regal and divine and dripping with sadism and the lush regalia of the strange garb that she wore, her body and hair interwoven with all those ribbons and sash.

She hiked a leg up, one over the other, Byleth felt the coarse texture of the stone beneath her as her eyes followed those movements. The Girl sighed.

“You remind me of a dog, just watching. Hungry. Come now, child, entertain me.”

Byleth didn’t know how. She blinked. Yet she felt a strange hunger below the pit of her belly.

The Girl sighed harshly. She changed how she sat again. All languid and sloppy, resting on the arms of her stone throne. She kicked a leg out and she was so short. Her leg barely reached unto Byleth’s face. She flexed her toes. They were small and cute and the nails immaculately trimmed.

“Go on.” The Girl on the Throne said. “Worship me. That’s all humans are good for. Even strange ones like you.”

Byleth obeyed the taunt. She took a shaky breath and she kissed beneath The Girl’s toes, on the flat of her foot. It was without fault or callous. 

“More.” The Girl giggled.

Byleth closed her eyes to the kiss. Her lips numbly moving along the curves of The Girl’s foot. It was like a child’s. Soft, babyish, unworn by long journeys. Byleth tentatively touched the Girl’s foot with her hands. They were roughhewn and unworthy but she was touched regardless of hesitation. She caressed the Girl’s ankles, stroked her heel, savouring the softness of them. All whilst kissing her.

“That’s much better. I can feel the faintest echo of devotion coming off you now. Before…. nothing. I know you can do better, do better-“”

Byleth thinks that her name was called, just now, by the Girl but that wasn’t quite right. Byleth couldn’t hear it. It was as though the frigid air had distorted. No matter, Byleth thought, allowing bygones to be bygones, she knew she had many names after all and none exactly fitting just right, all that mattered was that she had an order. Do better.

Byleth hardened herself to the order. She kissed harder. She rid herself of inhibition and followed through with her order. She ran her tongue along the curves of The Girl on the Throne’s foot and lost herself to the devotion. To the worship. She suckled this Girl’s toes, sighing into her flesh and nail, and Byleth felt herself so grow dully aroused from these acts.

“You are doing well, dear.” The Girl praised her. Her voice growing warmer, perhaps even sincerer. “But I’m worried you are not sufficiently aroused by being my servant. It wounds me, you cur.”

“I’m sorry.” Byleth murmured. Her eyes opened, her vision felt bleary but the Girl remained so incandescent in this dark and erotic dream.

“I didn’t give you permission to stop.” The Girl said. “I order you to pleasure yourself. Perhaps then I might believe that you are true in your service of me.”

Byleth swallowed. She nodded. Understood. It went without saying. Her chest tightened as her right hand snakes down to her shorts; her left remained fondling the Girl’s foot. Byleth closed her eyes and trusted in her increasingly wet kiss as her hand, parallel to her strong belly, flatly entered her shorts, past her small clothes as well. With a hitched breath, she heaved forward as she toyed with herself, through unruly hair, and whilst she kissed the Girl’s foot.

The Girl on the Throne was delighted endlessly by this. A fanged smile crept over her face, splitting outwards from the middle of her thin lips.

“Perfect.” she murmured, sounding breathless.

She watched as Byleth masturbated herself to the kiss. Her haunted face grew flushed as she touched herself. The way her wrist moved against the hem of her shorts was jerky, she was so uneasy and perhaps even virginal in such carnality. It was greatly pleasing to the Girl on the Throne.

Her fingers felt so good inside of her, Byleth thought, wondering if her hand was there in actuality, not just in dream. They also felt so good in contrast to the lifelessness of the Girl’s toes in her mouth. They were cold and lifeless, as though belonging to some religious statue rather than this spectral figment in this dream. But between both entries upon her body, Byleth was contented with them both. Arousal, a strange stimulant inside of her, not causing her heart or heartlessness to stir but blood still pulsed pleasurably inside her regardless.

Time unknown passed. Byleth couldn’t count the seconds, not like this and the Girl had no want to but time indeed passed. With sweat on her brow, Byleth took a heaving breath, the following exhale was warm on the dainty, even slobbered on features of the Girl’s foot and it appeared that Byleth was at climax. Or very close.

And that simply wouldn’t do. Not for the Girl on the Throne at least.

She snapped her fingers. “Stop.” She was almost irate. 

Byleth seemed a touch defiant. Her eyes fluttered open and skirted upwards along the ornate regalia the Girl was clad with. With a twinging brow, Byleth ceased both her masturbation and her kiss of the Girl’s sacred foot.

“As your mistress-”

Self declared, Byleth cockily thought to herself as she ached for her orgasm.

“It is my sublime duty to ensure your pleasure.”

Byleth blinked. She retreated, slightly, from this strange girl.

The Girl, of course, only encroached on her more. Byleth lifted herself slightly and felt her back straighten. She, regrettably, removed her fingers from inside of her and waited for her next instruction.

With decadent movements, self indulgent and dance-like, the Girl descended from the throne. Byleth had never really known the Girl to stand or dance, her image in Byketh’s mind was seated, even if slovenly and with the warlike gaze of a bored warrior hungering for their next taste of blood in a peaceful time. It was strange. She, the Girl on the Throne, was strange. The ribbons of her regalia dragged and she chimed and tinged with silvery and brazen bells. It was enchanting to watch. Her figure was ethereal and ageless.

Byleth knelt at this Girl’s bare and naked feet. Like this, she was able to loom and leer over her, the taller of them. The Girl smirked, a pretty and sweet like bitter chocolate smirk. A conniving grimace, perhaps.

“Rid yourself of your garb.” she commanded. “It will only get in the way.”

Byleth nodded. She took her unbuckled belt by the head, as though it were a snake, and she discarded it off from her waist, caring not for how it ripped through the belt loops on her shorts. She pushed them down next, lifting herself slightly and pushed away her small clothes as well. She felt embarrassed by her state of mixed undress.

The Girl crooned sardonically upon. “My, aren’t you all grown up.” 

Byleth blushed slightly. She didn’t really care that she had something of a Bush between her legs but knowing that this Girl before her was likely as bare as the day she was created did make her feel suddenly self conscious.

The Girl put a hand on her hip and extended the other.

“Kiss me, child. I am to be worshipped, remember.”

Byleth obeyed. Her hand connected with the Girl’s and for a split second in time, it felt natural and right. So right. As right as right could be. Her lips brushed over the Girl’s knuckles. Their fingers interconnected and the Girl smiled, pleased immensely.

“Very good.” The Girl said, satisfied. “You may stop kissing me.”

Byleth didn’t want to but she adhered to the order. But they remained hand in hand.

“Oh, aren’t you a good girl? Like a dog.” she crooned. Jeered, perhaps. All her words were tinged with a cutting playfulness, after all.

The Girl stared down at Byleth. Byleth stares back, waiting for her next order. That’s all she was. A mercenary. A mercenary’s daughter. A puppet or vessel to be touted around with not much will of her own to be had, really.

“Oh, look at you, you’ve already forgotten how much you wanted your orgasm. It’s pathetic how little self you have but I find it endearing. Lucky you. I’m content to experience such a treat vicariously.” The Girl all but lectured Byleth.

Byleth felt weirdly flattered by the nigh declaration that her orgasm - and just the one, it would seem - was good enough for the two of them.

The Girl lifted her foot and delicately placed it down on Byleth’s lap. A curt shiver attempted to explode up from the base of Byleth’s spine but failed to. The Girl scrunched her toes in the bushel of Byleth’s pubic hair, massaging her with a clipped lack of deftness but arousal still resurged through Byleth.

“What a good and obedient servant you are, being turned on by your mistress’s feet. Go ahead, indulge.”

The words were sickly sweet and Byleth had to breathe steadily as The Girl fondled Byleth’s genitals with her foot. Stepping on her carefully, lightly, until she became enamoured with the pressure of perhaps hurting Byleth. Byleth who squirmed beneath such reign and felt her pussy wet and loosen to accommodate such an intrusion upon her. The Girl dragged her foot down, her toes flicking the entrance of Byleth’s pussy, toeing it and arousing her. Byleth shifted so as to permit the Girl more dominion over her. Slipping in far too easily and eliciting an abrupt but lewd moan from Byleth.

“Go on, my dear servant,” the Girl encouraged her, “touch yourself once more but don’t neglect me, please.”

Byleth nodded.

Her hand fell, like a shooting star, from the Girl on the Throne’s hand. The once interlocked fingers still craving that special attention, skin to skin, as Byleth fingered herself where the Girl’s toes were close to. With her other hand, she reached for the back of the Girl’s foot and groped at her feel. It too was soft and free of fault, as though she had never seen a day of work or walk at al; how marvellous. 

Byleth focused her attention more there than on herself. It felt awkward and crowded between her legs but her cunt blistered with the feeling of a clumsy and virginal pleasure. She stroked her clitoris and moaned some more unto the Girl who enjoyed such things and toed Byleth some more to prove it.

Byleth fingered herself modestly to the Girl on the Throne’s utmost pleasure. All but voyeuristic as she lorded over Byleth, aiding and hindering as she saw fit until Byleth came. She looked the perfect picture of awkwardness as she came, gaping mouthed and foot on her pussy but her regal companion would have it no other way, relishing the feeling of Byleth’s orgasm on her foot. It was odd but she liked it very much.

Byleth, too cold to her emotions, liked it less as it was that gleam in the Girl’s eyes, all proud and sharp, which she had negged for more internally.

“I might have to give you further lessons in subservience, if you will have me.” The Girl said.

Byleth nodded. “I would like that very much so.”

“Oh, you whore.” The Girl said. Then sighed, she collapsed back onto her throne where she belonged so beautiful and untouchable. She hiked a leg up, one over the other and her fingers tapped whatever surface tent could find; her tent, her armrest. “But it appears you are not my whore and my whore alone. Go, be done with you, wake.”

Byleth blinked and when she did. The dream was over.

Groaning, Byleth pulled herself up from the entrapment of her sleep. She felt oddly blissful, having orgasmed in her dream and in actuality, apparently. She stared over her draughty bed sheets which hid her legs and she still felt mildly aroused. Particularly between the legs. She was awake. 

It was morning in some inn on the way to Remire Village, where her and her father had been contracted next. It was going to be a long march but as Byleth stared aimlessly about t he room, haunted by her erotic visions of her dream, of that Girl, she figured that she could still make time for a bit more pray. She hiked up a leg and let her hands wander as she did not mind the thought of one day - one night - becoming the Girl on the Throne’s subservient and worshipper once more so, like a good worksman with a sword, it was important to her to improve her craft, no matter how lewd.


End file.
